


Two Men in a Boat (To Say Nothing of the Third, Who Stayed on Dry Land for Most of it but Played an Important Part in the Proceedings Nevertheless)

by mongoose_bite



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-03
Updated: 2015-04-03
Packaged: 2018-03-20 23:56:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3669828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mongoose_bite/pseuds/mongoose_bite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erwin and Nile decide to spend a fortnight boating on the Thames, a holiday they know will either make or break their faltering relationship. Things don't really go as they expect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Men in a Boat (To Say Nothing of the Third, Who Stayed on Dry Land for Most of it but Played an Important Part in the Proceedings Nevertheless)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mybrainproblems](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mybrainproblems/gifts).



“ _Morning Glory,”_ Nile said. The morning was glorious, admittedly; the traffic on the roads was still only at a dull roar, and the water of this particular stretch of the Thames looked silvered in the early light. A pair of ducks honked softly as they paddled out onto the water. Dew sparkled on the spider webs and mottled the dirty windows of the …the _object_ that Erwin was expecting them to call home for the next two weeks. There were dozens of boats moored here, some already inhabited or booked earlier certainly, but surely he could have found something a bit better than this.

“Yes,” Erwin said, putting his elbow into trying to wedge a bag further inside the bowels of the craft.

“And how do you suppose we refer to it in polite company without being made a laughing stock?”

Erwin scowled, “Look, just call her _Glory._ I didn't name the bloody thing-”

“Who did? Noah? It looks ancient. Are you sure it's not going to sink? The paint's peeling, it's covered in spider webs and it's probably rotten though.”

“If it does then we'll get our deposit back,” Erwin said through his teeth. “Nile. Please. We got up at this ungodly hour so we could get on the fucking water early. You're burning daylight.”

“If you're going to talk like a nineteen-thirties sheep farmer, I'm staying home,” Nile said dubiously, but nevertheless he hefted his backpack, picked up his suitcase and gingerly stepped aboard. He hadn't got up in the dark and caught a train so early it was nearly empty just to turn around and go home.

_Glory_ didn't sink immediately under his weight, so that was something.

It wasn't supposed to be like this, and Nile had the feeling that if this holiday didn't sort things out, one or both of them would be moving out of the tiny London flat they shared. They just seemed to butt up against each other’s sharp points constantly nowadays. Nile hated it and he knew Erwin hated it too.

Erwin was trying, at least, even if Nile wasn't convinced a fortnight on the upper reaches of the Thames would really help. If it didn't mend them then they'd probably be irrevocably broken, and Nile took some sort of perverse pleasure in that. It was better than letting things drift along as they were.

He wedged his stuff in as best he could into one of the storage compartments. The interior of the boat was mostly one room, save for a tiny bathroom, with a bed at one end and a kitchenette at the other with a gas stove. The décor was about seventies vintage, and the interior smelled like his grandmother's house.

“It reminds me of our first flat,” Erwin mused, his head bent forward so he wouldn't hit it on the doorway as they regarded their new abode.

Nile smiled, “I can see the resemblance. At least we shouldn't have problems with rats this time. Or drunk friends setting fire to the curtains.” Deep breath. He turned and looked at Erwin. “I'm sorry. I'll try and be a bit more positive about this.”

“You don't like early mornings. It's fine.”

A simple thank-you would have sufficed, Nile thought, but he bit his lip and said nothing. No arguments, he decided, not yet.

They went back up on deck and after some stuffing about with the ropes managed to cast off. Erwin had made sure both of them had read the manual (a sheaf of papers far younger than the boat itself was, printed and bound in a cheap folder by the owner) but volunteered to be first to steer.

_Glory's_ engine coughed to life as they drifted away from the pier and Erwin looked a bit startled. He said something; Nile could see his lips moving.

“What?” Nile shouted.

“It's a bit louder than I expected!”

Nile just nodded. At least they wouldn't have to make conversation. He watched the bank recede, unsure if he felt relieved or worried to be leaving most, but not all, of his normal life behind.

Erwin had clearly been hoping for a quieter journey. He'd been inspired to take this trip thanks to a book which had been published in eighteen-eighty-nine and thus featured a boat powered by wind and oars (and occasionally towed by steam launches, whatever they were; Erwin kept reading out inexplicable snippets that Nile felt obliged to listen to with a weary air.)

Nile, for his part, found that once he got used to the noise it wasn't so bad. Certainly, the scenery was interesting, as he'd never taken a trip upriver before, and he found it hard to believe they were still so close to London. They weren't moving fast, but that gave them enough time to appreciate the view.

He did wonder if the novelty would wear off after a day or two though.

They found a quiet spot mid-morning and killed the engine to have a cup of tea and swap over steering duties. Erwin got out his book.

“'Lulled by the lapping water and the rustling trees, we fall asleep beneath the great, still stars, and dream that the world is young again—young and sweet as she used to be ere the centuries of fret and care had furrowed her fair face, ere her children’s sins and follies had made old her loving heart—sweet as she was in those bygone days when, a new-made mother, she nursed us, her children, upon her own deep breast—ere the wiles of painted civilisation had lured us away from her fond arms, and the poisoned sneers of artificiality had made us ashamed of the simple life we led with her, and the simple, stately home where mankind was born so many thousands years ago.' That's us, isn't it? Still dreaming of unspoiled nature. Even if I have to say, I'm not quite ready to give up the wiles of painted civilisation.”

“Yes, well.” Nile didn't really know what to do when Erwin said things like that. Erwin with his big dreams of saving the world, who'd swept Nile up with him. They could have been making a fortune, both of them, but they spent their time foregoing the bonuses and perks of working for the City, toiling for non-profits instead, trying and often failing to save some small patch of wilderness no one gave a shit about, a handful of birds or a withered stretch of swamp. Nile's family was proud of him because they didn't know better; they had no conception of the money he _could_ have been earning, and thought him a success because he lived in London and wore a suit.

Lived in London, yes, but hell would freeze over before he had the money to own even the most disgusting hovel there and he only had himself, and Erwin, to blame for that. Maybe he was growing out of his idealism. Maybe Erwin had noticed, and that was why he'd suggested this, to enjoy for themselves the world they tried so hard to protect, and to remind Nile to keep the faith.

God, nothing was ever fucking simple with Erwin. He always had five reasons for doing anything and would only tell you three.

Nile couldn't say a word of what he was thinking, as it was either untrue and uncharitable, or true and they really were going to break up. The thought hurt. Nile watched Erwin smile fondly at his battered book, the sunlight reflecting off the water illuminating his face from below. He'd always been beautiful, like something out of a classical painting, and Nile could still remember the heady disbelief he felt when he discovered he liked _him_ too.

If only they could have stayed students forever.

Nile tossed the dregs of his tea over the side and said he'd steer for a while.

This was more like it. By the time they'd sailed under three bridges and navigated past several row boats, Nile was starting to really enjoy himself. He was master of his own destiny at last, as long as his destiny lay upriver, and he felt the wind in his hair when he leaned out of the cabin.

As shabby as the _Glory_ was, she wasn't the shabbiest, and they passed other houseboats, both immaculate and decrepit, but all alike in their shared address on the river. It was oddly democratic. When they saw other people they exchanged cheery waves, no matter the age or demographic; they were river-dwellers now, albeit temporarily.

The houses they saw were river-front properties that offered a glimpse of a life Nile could only dream about, each with their little pier. Nile told himself he wasn't envious, and when he swooped around the next bend, slowing to avoid another houseboat coming the other way, he actually believed himself. The middle-aged couple on the other boat waved at them, and the woman called a good morning as they glided past.

Nile realised he was grinning, stretching his face into the sort of smile that he hadn't worn for so long it felt strange.

Erwin caught his eye and looked so relieved, and if he'd been in reach Nile might have kissed him.

It all went pretty well until the lock.

It was nearing lunchtime and Erwin had been looking at the map. He came into the cabin to inform Nile that there was a lock coming up ahead.

“A what?”

“A lock! You know, raises the boat up.”

Nile had no clue and Erwin could see this.

It didn't matter, however, because soon enough Nile could see the lock for himself. The river narrowed to a sort of canal that was was cut off by two large gates.

“What do we do now?” Nile asked.

“You drive, err, sail, whatever, in and then the gates close behind and the water lifts you up to the height of the river on the other side, and you sail out again,” Erwin said.

“Oh.” Nile was not feeling entirely confident about this. “So one of us has to get out to open and shut the gates?”

“Mm, I suppose.”

Luckily, the lock came with instructions. There was a big yellow sign attached to the lock wall, and a bell to summon the lock-keeper. The bell looked about three hundred years old, and sign to ring it was weathered bronze.

“Yes, well, I doubt they have a lock-keeper in this day and age,” Erwin said, as they peered at the sign. There was a set of rungs so someone could climb out of the lock and use the mechanism on top.

Nile was starting to feel a bit hemmed in by the high concrete sides of the lock, and the fumes from the engine weren't helping, so he volunteered to go and work the mechanism himself.

“Good idea.” Erwin looked equally as relieved. Clearly his book hadn't gone into the details of lock operating.

Erwin edged the boat close to the ladder and Nile stepped across, grabbing the iron rungs. They were crusty with dried river scum, and he scaled them quickly before wiping his hands on his jeans. Next to the lock stood a pretty little lock-keeper's cottage, probably National Trust, and Nile took a few moments to stare appreciatively at it and reacquaint himself with the feeling of solid ground under his feet.

Right, the lock. The mechanism was signed, and Nile read it all very carefully, feeling somewhat under-qualified.It would probably get easier with practice. It wasn't so much that it was complicated just that he wasn't sure what the consequences of screwing up would be. He wanted to double check what he was doing first.

Erwin killed the engine, and silence fell.

“What are you doing?” he called up.

“I'm reading it!” Nile walked back to reassure Erwin that all was well in time to see Erwin reaching for the ladder. “It's fine, I can handle it,” he snapped, irritated that Erwin was so impatient with him.

“Then what's the- fuck!”

Nile watched as Erwin reached for the ladder just as _Glory_ slid out from under his feet. Erwin tried to regain his balance, flinging his weight back towards the boat rather than grabbing for the ladder and promptly fell into the river with a greenish splash.

He resurfaced almost instantly, spluttering, his eyes wide, his hair plastered down over his face.

Nile stared at him for a moment, utterly startled to see Erwin do something so unexpected and clumsy, and then he started to laugh. Erwin had been reading about the misadventures of three Victorian men on the river to him for days, and maybe some of it was amusing, but nothing was amusing to Nile as seeing Erwin experience it for himself.

“What are you laughing for?” Erwin asked crossly, treading water. “You sound like a hyena.”

And that just made it worse. Erwin's hurt expression at Nile's lack of sympathy only made him laugh harder. He tried to speak and couldn't, doubled over with tears starting to form in his eyes. He didn't even think to take his phone out and take a picture. He just laughed until his sides ached. He couldn't work out why Erwin was swimming back towards the boat rather than to the ladder, but watching him splash around was marvellous and he never wanted him to stop.

“Nile!” Erwin finally shouted. “The fucking boat is going to hit the fucking side!”

_Glory_ was still drifting in the lock, towards the other bank. Shit. Nile stopped laughing so fast he nearly choked.

“Fuck! What do I do?” he called, wondering if this was a good time to panic. There was no way across the river to the other side that he could see.

Fuck fuck fuck. Why did they think this was a good idea? They had no clue obviously-

“Can I help you gents?”

The newcomer was tall and broad, and he was dressed in rather ragged jeans and a tshirt and work boots. He had brown hair that flopped forward, all but obscuring his eyes, and a relaxed air.

“My boyfriend's in the water and the boat's gonna hit the side,” Nile said urgently.

The stranger nodded calmly, like this sort of thing happened every day, and then he asked Nile to stay put before he walked out along the top of the gate, as casual and confident as you please, despite the lack of railing and the drop on one side. When he was at the closest point to the _Glory_ he simply dropped down onto the bow, the boat rocking slightly under his sudden weight. Nile held his breath until he was sure the boat hadn't been damaged. The stranger bent down and extended his hand to Erwin, hauling him back up onto the boat with an ease Nile envied; Erwin wasn't a lightweight. Erwin clambered into the cabin to get the engine started again while the newcomer waited patiently for the ladder to get within arm's reach. He said something to Erwin, climbed up the side, and demonstrated how to use the lock.

“First time on the water?” he asked Nile, as the gate swung open on the other side.

“Yeah.” As if it wasn't blindingly obvious.

The man introduced himself as Mike and once the _Glory_ was safely secured to a bollard on the other side of the lock, and Erwin was drying out in front of the stove in the lock-keeper's cottage, he asked them why they hadn't rung the bell as he served them tea in large ceramic mugs that looked, like much of the furniture inside the cottage, homemade.

“We didn't think there were lock-keepers any more,” Erwin said.

“Well, not too many,” Mike said. “The job comes with the house.” He had a nice voice, deep and reassuring with a burr to it that Nile couldn't quite place. He seemed to fill up the kitchen without crowding them, offering them milk and sugar. “It doesn't pay though.”

“What do you do then?” Erwin asked, his eyes lighting up with interest. He'd changed into dry clothes but his hair was still damp, and his shoes were sitting by the stove, balled up newspaper shoved into them to help them dry.

“I work as an editor for a publishing company specialising in travel books. I can work from home so looking after the lock is no trouble.”

Just like rescuing their boat was no trouble. Just like making them tea was no trouble. Nile got the impression that very little was trouble for Mike. He could only dream of being so impervious to trouble himself.

“Sorry we caused such a fuss,” Nile said.

Mike laughed, stirring half a spoonful of sugar into his tea. “Nothing ever goes quite as planned on the river.”

“We are, I'm afraid, painfully green,” Erwin said.

“Well then,” Mike got to feet and tapped perfunctorily on the barometer hanging on the wall. “There's a sheltered spot about about half a mile further upstream. Unless you're planning on pushing through to the next lock before dark you might want to camp there tonight.” He breathed deep. “Storm coming.”

Nile looked out at the cloudless blue sky. “Well, if we do that we won't have to rush then,” he suggested. He wasn't entirely looking forward to setting foot back on the boat just yet. He wasn't sure he wanted to give up the company of their helpful host just yet either.

“Stay for lunch if you like,” Mike said.

“We couldn't possibly-” Erwin began.

“Nonsense, it's no trouble. Nothing fancy, just sandwiches.”

Mike served cold roast beef and tomatoes and mustard on bread that was either homemade or one of those really expensive artisanal loaves Erwin sometimes brought back from the markets. It made Nile incredibly nostalgic for a childhood he'd never had.

Occasionally the bell would ring and Mike would duck out for five minutes to operate the lock.

“Is he for real?” Nile asked Erwin during one of these absences.

“Fuck, I hope so,” Erwin said with a smile. Nile didn't have it in him to be jealous; he'd been quietly checking their host out as well. He knew Erwin's tastes almost as well as his own, and he wasn't really surprised.

When they bid him farewell Nile noticed that there _were_ clouds building up, although the day was still sunny and warm. They found the spot that Mike had mentioned and exchanged a glance and silently agreed to stop there for the day.

Nile was glad they did. By the time the sun had set the summer twilight had been eclipsed by the clouds, and thunder was rumbling close enough that Nile imagined he could feel the vibrations in the muggy air. They cooked ham and eggs on the gas stove, and when the storm arrived battened down the hatches. Rain pattered and beaded on the windows, and _shussshed_ on the water around them.

They stretched out on the bed and Erwin picked up his book.

“At least we're not camping out,” he said. “Listen to this. 'It is evening.  You are wet through, and there is a good two inches of water in the boat, and all the things are damp.  You find a place on the banks that is not quite so puddly as other places you have seen, and you land and lug out the tent, and two of you proceed to fix it.

“'It is soaked and heavy, and it flops about, and tumbles down on you, and clings round your head and makes you mad.  The rain is pouring steadily down all the time.  It is difficult enough to fix a tent in dry weather: in wet, the task becomes herculean.  Instead of helping you, it seems to you that the other man is simply playing the fool.  Just as you get your side beautifully fixed, he gives it a hoist from his end, and spoils it all.'”

Nile could picture it all too well, and he sighed deeply in the gloom. The only light was the lightning outside, and Erwin's bedside lamp.

“'Rainwater is the chief article of diet at supper.  The bread is two-thirds rainwater, the beefsteak-pie is exceedingly rich in it, and the jam, and the butter, and the salt, and the coffee have all combined with it to make soup.'” Erwin glanced up for Nile's reaction. “Come on, that's a little amusing, isn't it?”

“Erwin, what's it all for? All of this. Are you hankering for the simple life? I grew up in the simple life and it sucked. I wanted to get away from that, away from small rooms and damp and mould. And right now I'm stuck in an even smaller room, which is very damp, and you're reading ancient literature to me. Don't you think that's a bit depressing?”

“We could fuck.”

“I don't want a fuck. I want some light. I want a bit of space.”

“Well, we've got umbrellas, there's all of England out there.” Erwin tossed the book aside and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You're right, this is not a lot of fun. But it's not going to rain every night.”

They looked at each other, guilty, knowing what they were dancing around.

“We'd have to walk,” Erwin said. “And we'd be imposing.”

“I brought some good scotch,” Nile said.

Thunder rumbled overhead.

“We better hope he likes scotch.”

Nile found himself grinning. “Go warm up the umbrellas, I'll dig it out.”

Mike looked surprised to see them, but he didn't hesitate to welcome them in. They left coats and umbrellas drying by the door and he found them glasses and cleared paperwork off the table.

“We didn't mean to interrupt if you're working-”

“Oh, it's fine. This isn't work. My cousin wanted me to read over her manuscript. It's terrible,” he said cheerfully, as they pulled up chairs. “But she'll get there, even if she is supposed to be studying for her A Levels rather than writing about dragons.”

“Large family?” Erwin asked.

“The largest.”

“Oh yeah?” Nile asked. “I have at last count, and frankly I don't keep count any more, fourteen cousins.”

“Really?” Mike grinned.

In the end it was a bit hard to tell whose family was the largest. Mike's seemed to be spread across the country, organically keeping bees and making pots and protesting against fracking.

“Oh hell yes!” Erwin interjected. “We made it down to one of the protests in March.”

“Yeah?” Mike raised his eyebrows and Nile found himself explaining what they did for a living with more enthusiasm than he had in a long time. Mike dragged his chair a bit closer to the table and listened attentively as they explained.

“Of course I've read Monbiot's book,” Mike was saying, some fathomless amount of time later. The bottle was down by about half and the world's problems were starting to look solvable as well, as the summer storm crashed around them unheeded. It was like being back at university. Mike had actually been to some of the places they'd fought to save, and he thanked them, in between telling them of his adventures, and Nile was sure it was the drink that was making him emotional.

They didn't get thanked much.

“Fuck,” Erwin glanced at the clock on the wall. “We were supposed to be doing at least twenty miles a day. I was hoping to make up for today's delay tomorrow.”

“You want us to get up early tomorrow?” Nile asked. “Again?”

“Best time of the day,” Mike said, amused. “Throw off the blankets, plunge into the river. Nothing like it. I do it every morning.”

Nile didn't think he was being serious, but the image of Mike going for an early morning bathe in the river was quite vivid.

“I've plunged enough for now,” Erwin said. “But we should head back. I think it's stopped raining.”

“Mm,” Mike said. He leaned back in his chair and took a notepad and pen. “Here, I'll give you my number. If you have any troubles upstream, I'll help if I can. There's a tricky lock about thirty miles if you go left-”

Mike saw them off at the door and they walked back to the boat a little unsteadily. Nile was exhausted; it had been a very long day, and he spent the entire walk back visualising just falling into bed and sleeping until ten.

They fell into bed. They didn't sleep.

Nile rolled on top of Erwin and Erwin welcomed him, his mouth open and hot and tasting of scotch, his legs bracketing Nile's hips, sweat drying in the post-storm coolness that drifted in the windows they'd opened as soon as they'd returned.

“Noise travels over water,” Erwin had breathed into Nile's neck and they kept their voices down, tangled up, breathed and forgot to breathe and if Nile's mind wandered back to a little cottage by the lock, and he thought about the hands and shoulders and legs of the man who lived there, well.

It wasn't something Erwin wouldn't do.

Despite their best intentions they woke up at dawn anyway. They rolled over and put their heads under the pillows and tried to pretend they weren't awake but it was no use and they got up and stared at the traces of mist hovering over the water, and listened to the birds singing. They considered taking a dip in the river, and agreed that a cup of tea was probably a better way to start the day. They both had headaches, after all.

They got under way and navigated their second lock successfully. Nile took a picture and sent it to Mike asking if it was the tricky one he'd mentioned.

He said it wasn't.

He asked them how their day was going.

He sent them a picture of his house full of people with the caption: _Tourists_.

“He has to put up with tours?” Erwin asked, looking over Nile's shoulder at his phone. Nile sent him the question and Mike replied the affirmative, but only once a day on weekends.

_Shame we didn't know, we could have gone on a tour._ Nile texted.

_If you want to see my upstairs you need only ask._

Nile bit his lip and after a moment's thought he held up his phone so Erwin could see as well.

Erwin laughed. Nile took a picture of him laughing.

They decided to go ashore for dinner that night, and afterwards they explored the town. Nile's heart was light as they strolled, closer than they'd walked together in a long time.

“Feels like another country,” he murmured. Without a car, without a reference point bar the river they were tourists, just on the edge of getting lost and losing themselves in the process.

They went back to the boat early, and slept.

The next morning Nile sent Mike a picture of the sunrise. He heard a phone camera clicking and saw Erwin taking a picture of him as he photographed the sunrise, or rather his arse as he photographed the sunrise.

“Did you send that?” Nile asked.

Erwin didn't answer. His smile said it all.

“You prick.”

He found himself smiling anyway.

It was almost like Mike was with them. His opinion was only a photograph or a text away. He told them where to refuel. He warned them of bad weather. Nile dozed with his shirt off on the back deck of the _Glory_ and imagined Mike dozing beside him. Beside them. Christ, Erwin looked so _young_ in the pictures he sent of him, like the waters of the Thames had been the fountain of youth.

Nile let his beard grow scraggly again, unbothered with shaving and Erwin just tugged at it affectionately and told him he was running wild. No clients to impress, no opponents to intimidate.

They carried their clothes to a laundromat and ate curry out of styrofoam containers under fluorescent lights while the machines churned and even that felt like an adventure. They sent Mike a picture of themselves captioned _The charm of the English countryside_ and he responded with a shot of the moon reflected in his lock and a comment about having to fish it out.

If it had been anyone else Nile would have found such whimsy annoying, but Mike was so grounded the rest of the time he found it charming instead.

They fell behind schedule. They'd planned to go further but the first week was up and they did have to return the _Glory_ when their time was up. They sat on the back deck, watching the light bleed slowly out of the sky and scraping beans off tin plates.

Erwin's phone chimed and he took it out. He smiled fondly before turning it so Nile could see the picture Mike had sent him of his Shepard’s pie, just out of the oven. Nile smiled and shook his head.

“Ask him what we need to do to get invited over to dinner,” he suggested.

Erwin looked amused, and he moved his thumb over his phone but then stopped and put it aside again. He took a deep breath and Nile braced himself. Here it comes, he thought, whatever it was.

“Are we in love with him?” Erwin asked.

Nile's defensive response was disarmed by the 'we' and he opened his mouth and shut it again and shrugged.

“I think I am,” he said, startled by his own honesty. “And you are, clearly. Does that make it 'we'?”

Erwin didn't reply.

“Does it?”

The question hung in the flawless summer evening.

Erwin took a deep breath. “I still love you, Nile. I never stopped. You just seemed to go away from me somehow. If I pushed-”

“You don't push. If you pushed, I'd be able to push back.” Nile let his head thunk back against the side of the boat, and he felt the cracking paint crumble under the impact and stick in his hair. He sat up again and leaned forward to brush it out. “We've saved a handful of birds, helped out some people, and I'm not sorry but what do _we_ have to show for it? You went away too, you know. I missed you.” He looked out at the water. “Why didn't we realise this was here?”

“Too busy staring at the bigger picture I guess. Figured we'd see all this once we've saved it.”

“If we hadn't met him we'd be breaking up right now,” Nile said softly.

“Yeah. I never knew all those things about your family, Nile.”

“You didn't ask.”

“You never wanted to talk about them.”

“I figured they were, well, who I was, not who I am. I didn't think who I was was, someone you'd like. Wasn't someone I liked.”

“How can you say that? You were amazing, Nile. The first person in his family to go to university. But he didn't just care about the money. Wanted to make the world a better place too, just didn't know how.” Erwin looked at him. “I couldn't have done this without you. You keep me honest. I could make three times as much as a consultant for one of the energy companies. Green credentials and all that. And some days I,” he faltered. “I want to say 'fuck it' and take the money.”

Nile stared at him, “You never mentioned this to me.”

“Of course not! I don't want you to think less of me.”

“Okay, why did we stop talking to each other?” Nile asked, rubbing his temples.

“No time, no energy. We talk for a living, saying things to people who don't want to hear us. Why would we want to talk more when we came home?”

“We're talking now.”

“Yeah.”

They didn't talk much more right then, however. Nile just basked in the feeling that maybe things were going to be okay. Erwin shifted closer and rested his head on Nile's shoulder and they stretched their legs out and watched the world get dark.

“What about Mike?” Nile asked, wishing for the first time in a while that he still smoked. His fingers twitched towards a lighter he knew wasn't there. It had been too long since they'd had make-up sex. Maybe this counted as almost-break-up sex. He’d forgotten Mike for a while, caught up in remembering Erwin, remembering himself, but now he’d caught his breath and could think again, his thoughts had drifted downriver.

He could hear Erwin fumbling around in the dark getting a drink. They were both naked and turning on a light would give anyone glancing through the large uncurtained windows a bit too much of a show. They weren't the only boat on the river, after all.

Erwin padded back to bed and the thin mattress barely moved under his weight. Nile would not miss it when they got back home.

“Well,” Erwin said carefully. “He clearly has no objection to flirting with us. We'll see him on the way back.”

“You look so happy when he texts you,” Nile said.

“So do you. It's like he reminded us who we were.”

“So?”

“I don't know. Do we try and seduce him? Declare ourselves in an open relationship?”

“I'm not-” Nile frowned. “I don't want you to just do whatever.”

“Why do you think it would be me?”

“Because you're gorgeous.”

Erwin was silent for a while, and Nile was about to prod him for a response when he gave a shaky laugh, “You... really?”

“No, I fake all these erections. What the fuck, Erwin?”

“That does it,” Erwin said. “We really need to get his opinion.” Nile blinked, startled, as Erwin's phone flared briefly before he held it to his ear.

“Are you _calling_ him? Have you any idea what the fucking time it is- stop!” He lunged at Erwin, trying to get the phone away and Erwin fended him off with his free hand. Nile gave up when he heard Mike pick up, and he flopped face down in Erwin's lap and groaned. That idiot.

“Hello?” Mike's voice sounded tinny over the phone.

“Mike, we're sorry to call you so late.”

“Erwin, what are you doing?” Nile said against Erwin's bare leg. He felt Erwin run his fingers through his hair, but he wasn't soothed.

“We were honestly wondering what your intentions were, or perhaps, what you'd hoped would become of the three of us. Sex-wise, or romance-wise, really. I feel we can't really discuss this much further without your input.”

“You sound like you're giving a fucking seminar,” Nile said, but his heart was pounding anyway and his stomach felt fluttery.

“I'm improvising aren't I?” Erwin hissed. “I've not asked anyone for a threesome before.”

Nile noticed Mike wasn't answering and he sat up.

“Mike?” Nile leant forward to speak into the phone.

“Are you two drunk?” Mike asked, calmly, like he _hadn't_ just been propositioned, or that it happened every day—maybe it did. Maybe he flirted with every couple that drifted through his lock.

“No,” Erwin said. “We've just decided we need to say things more clearly from now on.” In the dim light filtering in from outside, Nile could almost see Erwin watching him.

“We're going to try,” Nile said.

“Good,” Mike said. “You're good together.”

“We are?” Erwin asked.

“Guys, you saved Peterson's Ruffled Parrot. And you've lived on the river for a week without killing each other. I should think it's fine.”

Nile found himself smiling.

“We really like you,” Nile said.

“Well, stop by on the way back,” Mike said. “I'll give you a tour of the upstairs. And if you like it I'll get you a season ticket.”

“We're looking forward to it,” Erwin said, and Nile could hear his grin.

Mike wished them a goodnight, and after he hung up and Erwin's phone was safely stowed away next to the bed Nile tackled him and they rolled around, grinning and laughing like idiots.

“We did it,” Erwin said. “Somehow.”

The next morning Erwin was making tea and toast when Nile checked his phone. He nearly dropped it.

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

“What?” Erwin called.

Nile pulled on some trousers and walked over, holding his phone out. Mike had sent him a picture, a selfie taken sitting cross-legged on his bed, in nothing but a pair of red boxer briefs.

“How fast can this bucket of bolts go?” Nile asked.

Erwin stared at the phone and then swore as the toast started to smoulder.

“Let's find out,” he said, waving his hand through the smoke.

**Author's Note:**

> The book Erwin is reading is of course [Three Men in a Boat](http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/308?msg=welcome_stranger) by Jerome K Jerome, which is out of copyright and free to read and I highly recommend it, as it is one of the funniest books ever written.


End file.
